Four Little Words
by Beena-Pani
Summary: [SLASH! Squid? Complete.] Squid thinks no one cares about him. A certain D Tenter tries to convince him otherwise.


**Four Little Words** by: Beena-Pani

**Disclaimer**: D Tent boys and Camp Green Lake is to me as global domination is to a paperclip.

**Rating**: G

**Pairing**: Squid/(random D Tenter)

**Genre**: Angst/Romance

**Summary**: Squid just wants his life to end, because life isn't worth living anyway. Nobody would care if he dropped dead, he says. But a certain D Tent boy thinks otherwise...

**WARNING!!!** This contains slash. That is, boys liking boys. If this sort of thing bothers you, disturbs you, freaks you out, makes you want to hurl books across the room and gouge out your eyes, click that wonderful little 'Back' button and forget you ever saw this. If you flame this, saying 'Ew! This is nasty! Squidly isn't GAY!' I shall cackle, pointing at this warning and chucking feta cheese at you.

Author's Note: I honestly don't know who 'he' is. 'He' is just a he, that's all we know. I'd tell you who I _think_ he is, but I prefer to let you use your imagination.

Oh, yes, and I believe I've been using my poetic licence on this. Every piece of dialogue consists of four words. I'm so proud of myself!

And many apologies to CL Curtis, who has been patiently (**coughcough**) waiting for the next update in Complications. I really _was_ trying to write chapter 5, but this just hit me and... Well, you know the typical excuses.

~*~

             "I want to die," I say, and he looks at me like he's shocked. But I know he's not, because I've been thinking and eating and breathing and sleeping and living those four little words ever since I got here, probably even before then.

            I'm sitting on the edge of my cot and I'm wondering what he's doing in here, because everybody else is in the Wreck Room by now. There can't be anyone still out on the lake; it's so close to dinner. He's standing in the doorway, blocking out the afternoon sun and he looks like he's got this sort of red-orange glow around him.

            He looks like an angel.

            "You know I do," I tell him, rolling my eyes at his attempt at amazement. He raises his hands in defeat, but now he just looks concerned and I hate myself for pointing out how bad he was at looking surprised, because now he's going to try and mother me. I can see the maternal instincts all over his face and I'm wondering why _he's_ got the maternal instincts while he's a guy and my mom probably never heard of them, even though she's my mother.

            "Life isn't that bad," he says, shrugging, but he's still looking all 'Come on, tell me your problems and I'll make it better' and I want to kill something.

            But not him. I couldn't kill him, because he's who he is and even though he drives me mad, I couldn't hurt him, because I know he doesn't want to hurt me and he's actually trying to heal my wounds.

            "It isn't, right, Squid?" And when he says my name, I can feel these tears coming up into my eyes and I have to look away so that I can blink them back. He says it softly and I want to hear him say it again and again and again, because even though it's not my _real_ name, he says it perfectly and I feel like maybe living is worth the pain. _Squid, Squid, Squid, Squid, Squid_, I hear him saying in my head, but each time it gets fainter as I slowly forget what it sounds like to hear my name coming off his tongue, like an echo that's bumping off the walls of my head.

            "Is it that bad?" he asks me and I turn to him, wishing he'd thrown my name on the end of that sentence, but maybe he's nervous about saying it now.

            "Yeah, it's that bad," I say, but I'm screaming at him in my head _Please, please, please, say my name again!_ But he doesn't.

            He bites the corner of his lip and looks down and I know I must look so pathetic to him. Then he looks up again and says real quietly, like he's about to give up if I don't, and that he'll off himself with me, and we'll have a suicide party,  "There's gotta be something."

            "What if there isn't?" I ask, and my voice cracks right as I'm saying 'isn't'. The tears are gone now, but I can feel myself shaking, so I grab the edge of the cot. He moves from the doorway and sits down next to me, and I think he's looking at me, but I'm not sure because I can only see him out of the corner of my eye. I'm staring right at the tent wall, because if I look at him I'm sure I'll start wailing like a baby. Then I ask him in this strained voice, still not looking at him, "What do you mean?"

            I can see this feeble smile that he's stretching thin across his face as he says, "Someone's gonna miss you."

            "I _know_ there isn't." I _know_. He can't tell me otherwise. Nobody would care if I dropped dead at this very moment. No one would know but him until a lot later, and I don't think he'd miss me, anyway.

            "But there is, Squid," he says, and I have to look at him again because he said my name and I can feel the colour rising on my cheeks as I'm screaming inside _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you!_ But I don't think he knows I'm blushing because my face has been flushed throughout this entire conversation.

            I'm looking at him. He can't mean... No, he doesn't. "What if you're wrong?"

            The smile isn't so feeble anymore. I can see there're tears in his eyes threatening to spill over his bottom fringe of eyelashes, but he somehow keeps them there.

            I'm so in awe of this balancing act that he's performing that I don't realize I've lost control over the tears that _I_ was working so hard to keep hidden and a few start rolling down my cheek.

            Hesitantly, he raises his hand and he slowly lifts his thumb into a half thumbs-up sign. Then, he bites his lip again and smudges the tears across my cheeks with his thumb, stopping them before they get to my lips. They quickly evaporate in the hot, dry air, but even after there's no trace of tears left, he lets his thumb rest on my face for a moment longer. He finally realizes what he's doing and shoves his hand into the large pocket on the leg of his jumpsuit, even though it's inconvenient for him to do sit like that. I'm staring at him and realizing what just happened.

            He clears his throat and says, "I know I'm right."

            "How do you know?" I force a sort of chuckle.

            He's biting his lip again and he's definitely thinking really hard, just like he was thinking really hard about whether he should brush away my tears or not. I look at him, not sure what to say, because what else could I say but 'Please, just say what I think you want to say'? And how could I say that without giving myself away?

            He takes a deep breath and even before the words leave his lips, I just know that he's going to say it.

            "Because I love you," he says, and he looks like he's the one who wants to slit his wrists now.

            I can feel more tears on their way and I'm splitting my face grinning, just because he said it. It was just four little words, but they were so perfect coming from him, to me. I reach for his hand and pull it out of his pocket and I'm holding it between two of mine like I saw a girl do in this movie once, and I remember thinking it was so cheesy before. "Please, say that again."

            He's staring at me now and slowly, slowly, he starts smiling at me and he says, "I love you, Squid."

            _I love you, Squid. I love you, Squid. I love you, Squid_.

            Now he's not just smiling anymore, he's _grinning_, just like me. We're a couple of grinning fools, and I know if anyone sees us I'll have committed suicide and homicide all in one go, in a way, but I don't care, because he said it, and he said my name.

            And now I know I've got four little words to say to him, too, so I just let it out without any thought, because there's nothing fancy or clever about it, but it's just what I need to tell him. So, I breathe in real shallow because I'm so excited, and I say those four little words.

            "I love you, too."

            I'm crying real hard now, so hard that he can't possibly wipe away my tears, at least not before they trickle into my mouth, because my lips are already salty.

            And, frankly, I don't care.


End file.
